Notes on Mary Winchester's Apple Pie
by x-butterflykisses-x
Summary: Why Dean Winchester loves pie. A brief moment between mother and son before a whole life was up ended.


_"As I snuggled down deep into my bed I saw two white marshmallows on my bedside table...I had, in a school essay written shortly before my mother's death, described them as being the nearest food to a kiss._

_Each night for the next to years I found two, sometimes three fluffy, sugary marshmallows on my bedside table." _

* * *

"Honey?" Her voice drifted in from the kitchen and Dean moved irresistibly towards her. The smell of stewing apples hit his nose and the sight of his mother rolling out pastry greeted him.

"Pie?" Dean questioned positively, his eyes alight with anticipation as he moved towards the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, after dinner though. Deal?"

"Yes Mom." Dean nodded his head slowly, the joy in his eyes somewhat dampened.

"Ice cream?" Dean suddenly asked, his head springing upwards as he eyed his mother's nimble fingers work the flour and butter into bread crumbs, not daring to hope for too much.

"Ice cream as well," Mary Winchester replied warmly, her eyes creasing at the corners as she reached out to ruffle her son's hair.

"Hey, careful!" Dean exclaimed. "You've got pastry hands."

"Oh so that's how it is?" Mary laughed. "Too cool for kisses from Mom?"

"When you're done…" Dean whispered, his gaze not quite meeting his mother's, a bashful red hue creeping across his cheeks.

"Well lucky for you..." Mary rolled the pastry deftly into a ball before wrapping it in a sheet of cling film and placing it in the fridge. "I'm just about done."

Quickly washing her hands under the kitchen tap Mary moved towards her son, swooping down she wrapped her arms around her first born before she placed a soft kiss against his cheek.

If Dean had known he had so few moments left with his mother he would have tried harder to stay in Mary's embrace. He would have committed every freckle that ran across her nose to memory. He would have stood for hours savoring the warmth of her arms around him as he felt her heart beat steadily against her chest. He would have somehow managed to bottle her scent of warm, freshly laundered clothes and cooking with the hint of something more sophisticated, no doubt the perfume she coveted all the way from Paris, France. The sound of her humming 'Hey Jude' would have been recorded on tape and the recipe of her tomato rice soup written down and preserved. If Dean had known that Mary Winchester would have been dead in less than a week he would have tried harder to remember more of her.

"Are you sure I can't have some pie before dinner?" Dean hedged, his face pressed into the crook of Mary's neck.

"Dean Winchester," Mary scolded. "How many times?"

"Sorry Mom," The boy whispered, contrite, green eyes radiating regret as his chubby hand rested gently against his mother's shoulder.

And before Dean could think better of it he placed a chaste kiss against Mary's cheek.

* * *

"Dean!" the thump to his chest that accompanied his voice pulled the hunter from his slumber.

"Dude, what the hell?" Dean questioned angrily, his green eyes narrowed in annoyance as he shot Sam a look, the warmth that had radiated across his body moments before quickly dissipating.

"We're here," Sam replied. "What were you dreaming about anyway? You had the biggest shit eating grin on your face."

"Pie." Dean bit back.

"Pie?" Sam shot back. "God, you are so predictable."

Dean rolled his eyes before wrenching the passenger door to the Impala open, the empty diner carton tumbling from his chest, the last few crumbs of pastry drifting to the floor.

Crumpling the cardboard container Dean shut the door of his car behind him.

* * *

_"It was the goodnight kiss I missed more than anything…" _

* * *

**A/N: **The quotes from the beginning and end of the fic are taken from Nigel Slater's Toast - an amazing book which I thoroughly recommend!

I have no idea how you folks like your apple pie but I like the filling of mine to be the constancy of apple sauce rather than actual chunks. As to how Mary Winchester would bake her apple pie, I have no idea. But I hope you all enjoyed this fic and please let me know what you think!


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